<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>Quarantine and Cookies by coolbyrne</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281102">Quarantine and Cookies</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne'>coolbyrne</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCIS</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>A quarantine fic you say?, F/M, of course it is</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-03-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-01 09:54:06</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,292</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23281102</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/coolbyrne/pseuds/coolbyrne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>For a guy whose picture is in the dictionary beside the word 'social distancing', Gibbs sure doesn't like being away from certain people. Slibbs lead-in.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Jethro Gibbs/Jacqueline "Jack" Sloane</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>189</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Quarantine and Cookies</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was initially going to do a story that stretched out over a 14 day plot, but 1. I have so many other fics on the back burner I should be writing right now and 2. We all need some quick happiness right now! :)</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>“... in light of current events, the conference was cancelled and we were all sent home, where I’m now in a 14-day self-imposed quarantine. Please don’t worry, I’m fine and am symptom-free, but out of respect for my co-workers, friends and general public, I think this is for the best. If you need me, of course you can call or text or we can set up a video call. Don’t hesitate to reach out for anything because I’ll probably do the same when I run out of toilet paper.”</em>
</p>
<p>Leon chuckled as he read out the last sentence. Looking at the gathering of his best team, he folded the letter and said, “Pretty self-explanatory. Any questions?”</p>
<p>“Yeah,” Nick said. “Who’s gonna teach Gibbs how to FaceTime?”</p>
<p>Bishop saw Gibbs’ eyes narrow and she leaned into his shoulder. “It’s like Chatsnap,” she informed him, purposely mangling the name.</p>
<p>“I’ve got a question, Director.” Tim all but raised his hand. “How does this affect us? The virus, I mean.”</p>
<p>“I’m glad you asked, Agent McGee. I didn’t just call you all in here to read out Agent Sloane’s letter. Direction came down this morning from Sec Nav about how we’re dealing with Covid-19.”</p>
<p>Nick whispered to Ellie out of the side of his mouth, “Why do I get the feeling some of us are going to like this and some of us are definitely not?”</p>
<p>Continuing on as if he hadn’t heard, Leon said, “Effective immediately, all agents will work from home whenever possible. When it’s not, Agents Torres and Bishop will handle the field work.” He held up a hand before anyone could interrupt. “Agent McGee, because you have 2 young children at home, consider yourself under self-imposed quarantine for the next 14 days. You will not venture into the field, is that clear?”</p>
<p>“Yes, sir.” He didn’t dare look at Gibbs.</p>
<p>“That goes for you, too, Agent Gibbs.”</p>
<p>The room went silent and everything froze in place, as if the smallest movements would attract the attention of an irate Marine.</p>
<p>“Pardon?” was all he said, but never had a single word stood for so much.</p>
<p>Vance was having none of it. “You heard me, Agent Gibbs. Quarantine. 14 days. Or should I tell the kids how old you are?”</p>
<p>Gibbs knew he was well within the age bracket most susceptible to the virus, even if he was in better than average shape. Nick’s laugh was cut short by a glare. “And these two?” he asked, tilting his head at Bishop and Torres.</p>
<p>“Like I said, they’ll be housebound, too. And we’ll do our best to keep any field work to a minimum. Fortunately, it looks like even the criminals are self-quarantining. I suspect any crimes we’ll be dealing with over the next month will involve a fight over the remote.” Seeing his joke fall flat with Gibbs, Leon shook his head. “It’s 14 days, Gibbs. Finish your damn boat.” The men stared each other down until Gibbs exhaled sharply through his nose. “As for the rest of you, from this moment on, witnesses, leads and follow-ups on evidence are to be handled through computer or phone. Face-to-face only when absolutely necessary. And I do mean absolutely. Understood?” Three of the four agents nodded. Vance looked at Gibbs and repeated the question. “Understood?”</p>
<p>Considering the man, the flat grunt given in response was about as good as Vance expected. “I appreciate your co-operation,” he said to all. “I know this isn’t going to be easy, but we’ve all got our part to play in keeping this thing at bay. If you have any questions, my door is always open. Perhaps not literally.” </p>
<p>He walked around his desk and pulled out his chair which everyone took as their cue to leave. Everyone but Gibbs. After several seconds, without looking up, Leon asked, “Anything I can help you with, Agent Gibbs?”</p>
<p>Another second passed before he finally replied with a terse, “Nope,” and turned to the door.</p>
<p>“You know,” Leon said, making Gibbs pause, “self-quarantine doesn’t mean you have to spend it alone. Just a thought.”</p>
<p>Gibbs’ confused frown remained even when he returned to his desk downstairs.</p>
<p>…..</p>
<p>Leon was right- 3 days into the quarantine and not a single case came up. It was as if all crime was put on hold in light of the world doing the same. He tossed the cold case file on top of the pile and sat back on the couch, head resting on linked fingers. His eyes went to the ceiling before closing, replaying the last 3 days on the back of his eyelids. Reading, building, drinking. Three things that would normally be right up his alley. And a damn good excuse for people to not bother him? It should’ve been his idea of heaven. Instead-</p>
<p>He opened his eyes and sighed into the empty living room. Despite knowing there’d be no change from the last time he looked, he picked up his phone and squinted at the screen. No missed calls. No texts. </p>
<p>He had called Jack once, under the pretense of a cold case, and when he had exhausted that excuse, she had asked him how he was doing. Small talk to pass the time, though there must have been something in his voice because hers had gone all soft when she assured him things would get better.</p>
<p>“And who knows?” she had asked. “Maybe the 2 weeks apart will be good for us.”</p>
<p>He hadn’t been able to ask her what she had meant before she had hung up.</p>
<p>Her comment had bounced around in his head ever since. He couldn’t figure out how 2 weeks apart could be a good thing, how 14 days without seeing her or catching her smile could be a positive. His disapproving grunt was loud enough to pull him out of the dark cloud that had settled over him.</p>
<p>“Man up, Gunny,” he said.</p>
<p>…..</p>
<p>“Did Tim show you how to make a video call?”</p>
<p>He took the time to just look at her, to take her all in, with her hair pulled back and face absent of makeup. She looked a little tired but her smile was full of energy. He wouldn’t admit out loud how much he missed her, but seeing her made him realize how goddamn much he did.</p>
<p>“Nope.”</p>
<p>She tilted her head, giving the puzzle another thought. “Phineas?”</p>
<p>“Yep.” He had been keeping in touch with the young boy ever since he left for Chicago, and when he explained he needed help contacting Jack, the 9 year old was excited to help.</p>
<p>“Well, you did it. Good job. And it only took a pandemic!” He pretended to be annoyed at her playful sarcasm, but she wasn’t fooled. “How are you?”</p>
<p>He shrugged. “Eleven more days to go.”</p>
<p>“How many boats have you built?”</p>
<p>This time he laughed. “Told Mrs. Cromwell I’d make that dining room set she’s been pesterin’ me about for the last 10 years.”</p>
<p>“Aww, that’s sweet.”</p>
<p>“What’d you mean when you said ‘maybe the 2 weeks apart will be good for us’?”</p>
<p>Her smile faded ever so slightly. “Wow. You really don’t do small talk, do you?”</p>
<p>“Nope.” His single word reply made it clear he wasn’t about to get distracted.</p>
<p>She brought up a hand to rest her chin. “Gibbs.”</p>
<p>“Is this about the Valentine’s thing?”</p>
<p>“‘The Valentine’s thing’,” she repeated as a whisper, punctuating it with a shake of her head. “Pretty sure you’re smart enough to know it’s more than that.”</p>
<p>He frowned. “No. No, I don’t, Jack.”</p>
<p>“Then I’ve fallen in love with an idiot.”</p>
<p>Her words, so simple yet so weighted, caught him flat-footed. She was right; he knew it was about more than the Valentine’s thing. He just didn’t think she’d lay out the truth so bare. </p>
<p>She mistook his silence for rejection. “And this is why 2 weeks apart is a good thing. Gives me a chance to, I don’t know.” She waved her hand helplessly in the air. “Move on, maybe.”</p>
<p>The suggestion was a punch to the gut and he found he had a hard time breathing, leaving him no air to speak. Again, she took it the wrong way, and he wondered how many times he’d dismissed or ignored her in the past for her to consider it his normal response.</p>
<p>“I’m gonna go, Gibbs. Bake some cookies or something.” She offered a thin smile at the idea. “If something comes up with work, I’m here.”</p>
<p>He was still recognizing her distinction between professional and personal when the call ended.</p>
<p>…..</p>
<p>An hour later and the silver lining in her idea was the fact that the apartment smelled amazing. Warm, spicy, comforting. For a brief moment, as she leaned against the counter, she thought of her mother. She wondered what she’d make of her now, after all these years. The loss of her mom made teenage years difficult, made giving up Faith harder, made Afghanistan weigh so much heavier than it might have been. Did she turn out the way her mother had hoped? She may not have known the answer, but she knew damn well pining over a man wasn’t what her mom had intended for her. </p>
<p>The doorbell brought her out of her reverie. Making sure the oven was off and inhaling the cookie scent one more time, she walked to the door and lifted on her toes to peek through the eye hole.</p>
<p>“You’re not supposed to be here,” was the first thing she said.</p>
<p>“You know I’ve been in quarantine, too.”</p>
<p>She lowered her heels and contemplated her next move. She hadn’t fully intended on revealing her feelings over the video call, but she didn’t entirely regret it, either. Tired of the push and pull, tired of the waiting, just plain tired. She wasn’t sure she had the energy to let him in, figuratively and literally. </p>
<p>“I brought toilet paper,” he said through the door.</p>
<p>Despite herself, she smiled. With two twists, she unlocked the door and swung it open. “Let’s see it first.”</p>
<p>Offering a disbelieving snort, he held up the bag and awaited her approval.</p>
<p>“Fine,” she said after the quick perusal. “Come in.” Seeing his nose lift to the aroma emanating from the kitchen, she said, “I made an incredibly stupid amount. You can take some when you go.” She began to walk towards the kitchen when he spoke.</p>
<p>“I’m not leavin’.”</p>
<p>Her stride faltered and stopped. On the surface, the statement was simple, but there was something in the determined way he said it that gave it weight and lit a warmth in her that she quickly quashed. Turning to him, she raised an eyebrow. “Pardon?”</p>
<p>“You heard me, Sloane. I’m not leavin’.” He dropped his duffel at the door and walked far enough into the apartment to put the toilet paper on the dining room table. “Nice place,” he commented, looking around.</p>
<p>“Thanks,” she stammered, still baffled by his comment. His quiet approach only confused her more. “What-” </p>
<p>Her question was cut short by his hand reaching back to tug the hair tie free. Her eyes closed as she subconsciously leaned into his touch. Three days alone had weakened her defenses, and his calloused fingers and soft eyes did the rest.</p>
<p>In a last ditch effort to protect her heart, she whispered, “I can’t do this. I can’t do this if you don’t mean it.”</p>
<p>“I mean it.” </p>
<p>The words, spoken so casually and yet with so much conviction, were pressed into her forehead by his lips. When she didn’t raise her head, he repeated it with barely a breath as he moved to kiss her temple, then her cheek, leaving a promise at the corner of her mouth. The combination of his gentleness coupled with his confidence broke through her last meagre stand and she brought her hands to his shoulders, scratching her fingers up through his hair until there was enough for her to grip tightly, to help her pull him closer. He didn’t require much encouragement. Her kiss gave him permission to respond in kind, releasing a heated need that bunched her hair in his fist, that pressed his body against hers until she was caught between the counter and his hips. His free hand came around to protect her waist from the counter’s hard edge and it was when she felt his fingers slip under her shirt that she was jolted back to the present. She had let herself get swept up in the moment, in his arms, in his lips before she let reality knock. Pulling back, she looked into clear blue eyes that held no regret. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply.</p>
<p>“Somethin’ wrong?” he asked, his breath close enough to warm her lips.</p>
<p>“Nothing,” she assured him. “Absolutely nothing.” A bright smile followed, as did a small shake of her head. “You have no idea what social distancing is, do you?”</p>
<p>“‘Course I do,” he replied. Her assurance let his mouth wander behind her ear. “Do it every day. People just won’t leave me alone.”</p>
<p>Her head tilted back to laugh, and he chased the vibrations up her throat with his lips. </p>
<p>“You know we’re going to be stuck together for at least 11 days.”</p>
<p>Without stopping his exploration, he said, “Was kinda hopin’ it was goin’ to be longer.”</p>
<p>The fact that he didn’t look at her when he said it swept away the casualness he pretended to put into the words. She lifted his head with her hands and responded with a kiss that told him it could be for as long as he wanted.</p>
<p>“Good,” she said against his lips. “Because there’s no way I can eat all these cookies by myself.”</p>
<p>…..</p>
<p>-end</p>
  </div></div>
</body>
</html>